I seem to have finally hit that stage when it's really really obvious to people that I'm pregnant. It's hard to look pregnant in the winter, because I've got my big bear-sized coat on when I go outside and I probably just look blubbery.
For the last couple of days now, when I get on a crowded bus I don't even have to say 'Excuse me, I'm pregnant - can I sit down?'. I might have to excuse myself, but that's it. And yesterday a young guy offered me his seat even without me looking in his direction. It really helps to unbutton my coat and let it all hang out (so to speak).
In the weekend, one of my neighbours whom I don't really know except by sight, walked past me as I retrieved my recycling bin from the footpath. We said 'hi', as neighbours do, but then he carried on and congratulated me on my mother-to-be-ness. This from a guy who usually doesn't say a word to me.
On the other hand, when I'm sitting on a park bench gorging myself on a giant-sized potato-top mince pie, I wonder if people walking past are thinking that I'm eating all the wrong food for a pregnant woman - maybe they're silently lambasting me for not eating home-made salad and hummous.
Today I bought a book called Bestfeeding, recommended to me by my GP. Amazing that something which is supposed to be such a natural thing i.e. breastfeeding, is so un-simple in practice that it takes a team of experts to write hundreds of pages on how to do it properly. How on earth do women in third-world countries manage?